The Colour Lilac
by Gumboot
Summary: Sam meets Death. Literally.


I don't own these characters etc. etc. I would appreciate any reviews, bad or good. Enjoy!

_The Colour Lilac_

Sam Winchester knew his brother had seen the face of death, although Dean had never revealed to him what that reaper had looked like. Sam imagined black, lots of clichéd black, and maybe some glowing eyes or that sort of thing – stereotypical supernatural stuff. But as Sam lay there, fighting for each inhalation, he couldn't see Death, although he could certainly feel it caressing his body and mind with its sharp tendrils. He always thought he'd be able to look at Death when it came and tell the dark reaper to 'piss off', but it seemed that his last moment of defiance wasn't going to happen. He was going to die and he could do nothing to stop it.

Suddenly, he felt nothing. He couldn't feel his heart beating and all warmth had left him. It was like he didn't exist in his body anymore. As he struggled with this thought, an unexpected chill enveloped him. Peering into the darkness, he could see a shadow and automatically knew whose shadow it was.

Death was here, and he wasn't black. Instead, the embodiment of death was more of a lilac to Sam's surprise and slight confusion. Death appeared to be an old man, clad in a purple suit that was definitely a size to large. He had frizzy white hair and round, owl-like glasses. Before Sam could consider the absurdity of it all, Death stepped forward and hovered above the hunter's body – his aura momentarily freezing Sam. Death opened his mouth, cleared his throat of a lifetime of deathly cobwebs, and spoke:

"Sam Winchester?"

"Piss off," the hunter in question answered. Victory was his!

Death stared at the hunter and Sam suddenly thought Death looked almost upset by his comment. With a small sniff, Death leant forward so that he was only a few inches away from Sam's face.

"Why?" Death asked, his voice wavering slightly.

"Why what?" Sam asked.

"Why did you tell me to piss off?"

Was that a tear in Death's eye? This was all too weird and Sam started counting down the seconds until he woke up from what had to be a very disturbing dream. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. No, apparently he wasn't going to partake in a clichéd story arc today.

"Um, because you came to take me away from the mortal world to the gateway of death. Because you came to take me away from my family, my home and my world. Wouldn't that piss you off?"

Death seemed to consider this point.

"I am Death so I have always been dead. I was dead even before the first person lived. I came into death and have lived in death for an eternity. So no one could take me away from anything because I have always existed in nothing," Death answered.

Sam closed his eyes in bewilderment. Whoever knew Death would be philosophical? When Sam thought of death, he thought there would be a quick removal of his life and existence and Death would be on his way. Maybe a boney hand on his shoulder to take away his life force – that sort of thing. But apparently not. Death was here for Sam and he wanted to talk. Sam took in a deep breath; if the reaper wanted a convoluted philosophical answer, well his time at university had provided him the tools to do so.

"What, man, so because you haven't experienced these things you want to take them away from me? You say you have existed in nothing, but that means you have indeed existed. And by existing means you must have felt something, some emotion, in your lifetime. What about all the people you take away, surely you have felt a connection with one of them? "

"People are only ever nice to me because they think I will send them back to their world. No one has ever cared about me," Death sniffed, looking sadly down at the hunter.

"No one has even asked me how I am?" Death whispered and stepped away from Sam. Sam heard another sniff and looked closely at Death. In the gloom, he thought he could see a tear. No that couldn't be right, Death can't cry right?

"Dude, are you crying?" Sam asked.

Death didn't look up but answered,

"I'm sorry, but I'm just so very depressed. Everything had been piling up and I feel so overwhelmed."

"Um, sorry."

As much as Dean thought Sam was up for 'chick-flick' moments, Sam was only good on the 'touchy-feely' parts; dealing with crying was certainly not his forte. He tried to think of something, anything, to say to Death, which was turning out to be harder than he thought possible.

"So, man…do you like purple then?"

For the first time in their encounter, Sam saw a ghost of a smile on Death's face. The old man reached down and lovingly touched his jacket.

"When you have existed for an eternity you learn to know what colours you like and could happily see for an infinite amount of times. Purple is my favourite colour. It's such a spectacular mix of prime colours; a true colour of the eternal and the regal. Somehow it can penetrate the nothing, the blackness. Purple rules our being and is a challenger of our limitations and without it we would be left with nothing."

"And green. I also like green. I'm not a fan of black though; it's just so unappetising. How about you, what's your favourite colour?" Death eagerly asked, having forgotten his previous sorrows.

"Brown, probably brown."

"Ugh."

Did Death just grunt in disdain at him?

"Brown is the same as black. It's just so insipid."

Sam wasn't sure what exactly he could say to answer that or continue their conversation about colours in general. He usually had more important things on his mind than debating the merits of the colour spectrum. However, being dead meant he now had eternity to think about those sorts of things. He didn't think he was ready for that today though. Maybe in a millennia or two.

"So do you keep quite busy doing the whole death thing?" Sam asked.

"It's generally pretty relaxed, but throw in a couple of natural disasters or plane crashes and I'm flat strapped for the next week. There are worse things I could be doing I suppose. It's when I have really slow periods that existing for eternity, and in nothing, gets me down. But that doesn't happen too often. Generally there's enough wars and whatnot to keep me covered," Death answered.

"So is it slow at the moment, that's why you have plenty of time to chat with dead people like me?"

"Um, you're not actually dead, didn't I mention that?"

"What?"

"I've existed for eternity – my memory isn't as good as it used to be. You were in a coma and it's been fairly slow this week so I thought I would pop you up for a chat, you being on the borderline between life and death and everything meant easy access," Death said.

"So I'm not dead?"

"No."

"Man, you could have told me this before. Look, no offence I wouldn't mind heading back. I don't think I'm ready for the death thing yet. Not that it hasn't been interesting talking to you," Sam offered.

Death sighed and nodded. He did have that girl in Texas to get to one day soon.

"Can I ask you something before I go? Do you remember Jess, my Jess?" Sam questioned hesitantly.

"Jess, yes, a lovely girl she was. We talked about cheese. She was a huge fan of brie," Death said.

"You talked about cheese. In her moment of death you talked about dairy products?"

"Yes, and you and I talked about colours. It's not like your death is the defining moment of your life. That's what life is for, that's what defines you. Death is just the random instant that occurs to everyone. So it doesn't matter that we talked about cheese, it's what before the cheese that would count to people you would think," Death said.

And then in an afterthought,

"Not like I have experienced living I suppose, but if you have died and want to talk about cheese well let people rejoice. And let me rejoice, because the whole passing over to the afterlife conversation is so passé. Cheese was different and I liked it."

Sam shook his head in disbelief; only his Jess could have a conversation with Death about brie.

"Anyway, I suppose you want to go now?" Death asked, a trace of despondency in his voice.

"I should, Dean's probably worried. Big brothers," Sam answered.

It was odd. The whole thing seemed, and was, so surreal but now that he knew he was alive and breathing somewhere down on Earth, he was kind of sad to be leaving the lonely old man.

"Well look, man, I'll think of you with every obituary that I read. And every time I see purple I will most definitely be remembering you," Sam said, trying to cheer up the melancholic Death.

"Yes, I shall see you around. Hopefully not too soon would be a good thing to say I suppose," Death said, with a wry grin on his face.

Sam watched as Death slowly disappeared into the nothing and when Death had completely vanished there was indeed nothing. Soon, however, Sam could feel the warmth in his body return. He could feel his heart and his chest began moving once more to his heartbeat.

_"So what's your favourite colour Dean?"_

"_Black, dude, you could have guessed that," his brother answered, rolling his eyes. It had been two days since they had left the hospital and his little brother had been acting weird, not that he was ever that normal, since they had hit the road. They had been driving along in the Impala for three hours that day without Sam saying anything, and Dean had been waiting for the question, whatever the question was to be. He hadn't expected that though._

"_That is so insipid."_

"_Uhuh, geek boy. What's yours then, brown?"_

"_Purple."_

"_Dude, are you sure you're not batting for the other team?"_

"_Purple challenges us. Death wears purple," Sam said _

"_Uhuh. Look, do we have to get back to the hospital and do some more head scans. You're freaking me out, man," Dean answered, slowing the car down. _

"_I'm fine jerk," Sam said, looking out the window. Dean could see a small smile on his younger brother's face._

"_Bitch."_

_Sam was quiet for a moment, before turning around in his seat to face Dean._

"_And if you see Death before I do, ask him how's he going for me. No one asks Death how he is."_

_"Dude, I am turning this car around right now!"_


End file.
